


Strand By Strand

by DearSpencerReid



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, lotta fluff, slight nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearSpencerReid/pseuds/DearSpencerReid
Summary: For everyone who has ever wondered why Spencer began wearing a hair tie on his wrist.





	Strand By Strand

It had been during your drive back home from dinner one Friday night that you first warned Spencer about the hassle that was to come with the growing length of his hair. Having truly noticed the length it was reaching for the first time yourself after watching the repetitive motions he went through of tucking loose strands behind his ear all throughout the evening.

“The longer it gets, the more frustrated you’re just going to get with it,” you commented offhandedly, taking Spencer by surprise when your voice broke over the low volume of the car radio.

“What do you mean?” Spencer cast a glance at where you sat in the passenger seat, allowing you the chance to see the eyebrow he had raised in question, “I’ve had long hair before. My hair was even long when we met.”

Thinking back to when the two of you began dating a little over two years ago, you nod, remembering how Spencer’s hair had hit just below his jawline back then, “That’s true,” you agreed with him before pointing out, “But it wasn’t nearly this long though.”

Spencer knew your rebuttal was true, thinking back himself to those two years ago, remembering how much you loved to run your fingers through the tendrils or see how many braids you could sneak in while he slept.

He also thought back to just ten months ago, when he came home a little late from work one day, sporting a new trim that he thought suited better for your upcoming wedding, remembering the shock that shone through your wide eyes, even though barely anything had been cut from his head.

“I thought you missed my hair being long. Is this your way of telling me you don’t like it?”

And despite the teasing glint in his eyes and the lighthearted tone he spoke with, you could tell there was a part of him that was worried you had grown so accustomed to his shorter cut that you were now finding him less attractive — an insecurity that you refuted straight away.

“I’m not saying that at all,” you turned your back towards the car’s window, shaking your head vigorously, “You could shave your head bald or grow it out to be three long and I would still love you.”

The sun setting just behind Spencer cast a heavenly glow over the nervous grin that melted off his lips and turned into a brighter, dimple bearing smile.

“But, maybe,” you added, reaching out to twist a fallen curl around your index finger, “I should buy you your own pack of hair ties.”

Coming to a red light, Spencer chuckled and tilted his head towards the warmth of your hand, “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against your wrist, “But I think I can survive without having any hair ties of my own.”

“Ohhh, just you wait and see, Rapunzel,” you laughed, trailing your hand down his arm to take his hand in yours, “Just you wait and see.”  


* * *

  
Heaving breaths and lingering desire hung heavy in the air of yours and Spencers dimly lit bedroom.

Your body still unmoved from your straddling position atop of Spencer’s lap, the quaking tremors that continued to shoot through your thighs inhibiting you from moving, your hands still buried deep within his mousy locks while attempting to bring yourself back down from your high.

Spencer didn’t seem to mind one bit though, too blissed out and preoccupied with running his hands up and down the sides of your bare waist to even begin thinking about the tangles he would have to work out later.

The sound of your breathing evened out and the grip you held on Spencer’s curls loosened, prompting him to open his drowsy hazel eyes and stare up at you in wonderment, a sleepy smile taking over his lips as he sees the one bestowed upon yours.

“Hi,” you whispered, exhausted but finding just enough energy to sidle up Spencer’s hip until you rested more comfortably on his lower stomach.

“Hey,” Spencer breathed out in return, his skin lit a flame under the path your fingertips took down his neck and shoulders until your hands were resting on his chest.

Another intoxicated smile graces your lips as you drink in the sight of Spencer beneath you, pupils still blown wide, bite marks that were sure to become darker placed sporadically on his collar bones, his mane spread out around him like a halo, frizzing along the hairline from perspiration and curls now coiled together from the assault of your tugging hands. 

“I didn’t pull too hard, did I?” you question, hoping that your usual habit of pulling didn’t cause more pain than pleasure considering that there was more to grab hold of now.

“No,” he hums, eyes starting to droop shut once more, “Felt nice.”

“Good,” you lean down to press a light kiss against his jaw, “I was worried I might have hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me,” Spencer yawns, hands becoming idle on your hips, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And you know he’s on the brink on sleep, and possibly still riding the high of his orgasm, so his inhibitions are altered, but you can’t help but fall further in love with the beautiful boy in front of you as you gently brush a flyaway from his slumbering features.  


* * *

  
The song you had been singing quietly under your breath is silenced the second you cross the threshold into your home, greeted by a series of exasperated grunts and groans audible from your living room just feet away.

Calling out for Spencer and announcing that you had made it home from work, you’re met with another grunt while kicking off your shoes and placing your purse down on the kitchen counter top, followed by Spencer meekly calling out in return, “In here, Y/N.”

Perched on the middle cushion of the couch, with the surrounding furniture rearranged to best fit his accessibility and comfort, Spencer had his braced left leg propped up on an ottoman while leaning over the coffee table you had dragged closer to the sofa earlier that morning, crutches lying on the ground stacked neatly on top one another.

It had only been seventy-two hours since being cleared from the hospital, and yet in that short span of time Spencer had been going stir crazy, trying to comply with both the doctors orders of staying off his feet and the team’s orders to take a few days off for medical leave — but judging by the manilla folders and case files he had spread out all over the surface of the coffee table, he had convinced someone from the team to bring him what appeared to be unfiled paperwork from previous cases.

“Everything okay in here?” you asked, leaning up against the living room doorway, watching as Spencer raked his hands through his hair and pushed it away from his face.

“It won’t stay tucked behind my ears anymore,” Spencer scowled, letting his hands fall free to show you how his hair cascaded directly into his line of vision, completely deterring him from getting any on the work in front of him done.

Pushing yourself off of the doorway and searching through your pants pockets for the hair tie you had placed in there prior to leaving that morning, you huffed out a quiet cheer as you retrieved it, stepping closer to the back of the couch, “Turn around,” you gestured for him to face away from you, wanting to help alleviate the frustration he was feeling.

Spencer did as you asked, allowing you to gather the uncooperative curls between your hands and comb your fingers through them until they formed a manageable ponytail that rested low on his head, removing the pony tail holder from your wrist and securing it tightly around his now neatly contained locks.

“Better?” you inquired, stepping out from behind the sofa and sitting on the empty cushion to Spencer’s right, tucking your legs up underneath yourself to comfortably face him.

The sight of Spencer with his hair pulled up was new, but oh how you wished to become more familiar with it. No longer shrouded by his hair, his jawline stood more prominent than it ever had, the freckles that sprinkled his cheeks now viewable like stars on a clear night.

A faint blush rose to Spencer’s cheeks upon noticing the unwavering stare your eyes held over him, “Much better.”  


* * *

  
“JJ gave out the invitations for Henry’s birthday today. It’s kind of last minute but she wants to have his party this Saturday.”

Spencer’s voice travels through the open bathroom door and reaches where you stood in front of the bathroom vanity, finishing up your night time routine by placing your toothbrush back into its home beside Spencers.

“I can’t believe he’s already turning one,” you raise your voice, ensuring that Spencer can hear you, scanning your eyes around the vanity top in search of one of the many ponytails that were normally strewn across the surface.

After scooting around bottles of lotion and deodorant with no luck of finding any form of an elastic, your feet carried you back onto the carpet of your bedroom, hoping to find a discarded one laying on your nightstand.

“Do you know what happened to all the hair ties?” you sighed, being met with the exact same outcome, glancing over at Spencer’s lounging position on his side of the mattress.

Closing the copy of “The Collector” he had chosen to reread before bed, Spencer sat up straighter against the headboard and tucked one of the tendrils that had fallen from the messy pile atop his head.

“I-uh-may have accidentally lost a few of the ones that you’ve given me.”

A laugh of incredulity crept past your lips, “How have you managed to lose so many of them?” you asked, “And in such a short amount of time?”

Spencer had begun wearing his hair up at home more frequently, mostly in buns he hastily spun together that could only be deemed as the epitome of messy, and somehow, within the course of two weeks, had lost nearly every single hair tie you owned.

“I don’t know how you keep track of them!” Spencer defended himself, nudging the bridge of his slipping glasses back up, “Sometimes I’ll put one down on my desk, walk away for one minute, and it’s gone by the time I come back.”

“Maybe you should start wearing them on your wrist,” you bit back the smirk that threatened to spread across your face, “You know, like I suggested a few days ago.”

This time, you weren’t able to contain the laugh that bubbled in your throat, watching your husband’s face flush red as he remembered the comments you made expressing how it would be much easier to wear one around his wrist than having to get up and retrieve it from the last place he left it.

Still determined to find anything to band your hair back with, the sound of Spencer mumbling an unintelligible reply under his breath continued to make you giggle while heading towards the kitchen junk drawer in hopes one finding an old hair tie buried underneath a take out menu or a half empty roll of tape.

Half way down the hallway and out of the corner of your eye, Spencers go-bag, in a state of being repacked, caught your attention. An idea hatching of an additional surprise for Spencer to find the next time he’s called away on a case.  


* * *

  
After three hours on a jet, six hours spent geographic profiling, and another two interviewing family members, Spencer felt he collapse the moment his eyes landed on the worn out hotel mattress he would sleeping on for the next few nights.

Throwing his duffle bag down on top the dark floral comforter and dropping down beside it, Spencer ran his hands over his face, ready to leave the case behind for a few hours before taking it all back on tomorrow.

With a yawn, Spencer began unzipping the bags front pocket, thinking he would find his travel size toothpaste on top but was instead greeted by a pack of newly bought hair ties with a folded post-it note poking out from the top.

Grabbing the small piece of paper in between his fingers and flipping it open, Spencer’s lips quirked up into a grin as his eyes scanned over the familiar handwriting.

‘I know you said you would be able to survive without your own, but I think we’ve both learned that isn’t quite true. Try not to lose all of these in the next ten minutes, okay? Please stay safe and come home soon. I love you.’

The end of your note signed with a smiley face, which Spencer graced his index finger over, missing you more than he already had been.

Careful to fold the note back the way it was, Spencer tucked it behind the pony tail he had retrieved it from and removed a different one from the bottom of the row, slipping it over his fingers and palm before it encircled his wrist.

Reaching for the toothbrush he had been looking for moments prior, Spencer stood from the creaky bed frame and headed towards the yellow tiled bathroom, grabbing his phone out of his back pocket as he walked.

A radiant beam breaking out from his lips as the ringing he heard ended and was replaced by your cheerful greeting.

“So I found the little gift you left me.”


End file.
